Dancing in the Frost
by My Echoing Silence
Summary: After he is adopted by an Ice Elemental and turned into one, Harry fakes his own death to escape being incarcerated by the Ministry for the rest of his long life. In doing so, he finds out many things no one ever wanted him to find out. Up for Adoption
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

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They think that they understand me, but really they do not, and they never will. One must know me to understand me and, with the exception of one, none have made that effort. So I am alone.

Rarely do I regret my newly found solitude. I entered it of my own volition and when I seek to rejoin the social world I will leave it. Some say that solitude is a cage, binding one in one's loneliness, but if that is true, the caged bird might still sing. And if I am a caged bird, my song is heard widely, the muted birds longing for it and seeking me out, flying freely where I may not – will not – to claim the song for their own.

To claim my song, one must first relinquish a different song. A song that they held dear. A song that, once relegated to the piles of old sheet music put away from sight, will fade, the notes turning to dust until dust is all that it is. The singers will not die with their songs, but rather move on, breathing the sweet life-giving notes into another. The singer will always live. The listener will always die, not from the song, but from neglecting to listen to it fully, to live the music, to be the music.

I will not die.

It is not the fault of the music that my death has not come. It is the fault of my choice of songs – the song of death, the song of control and of the end of control, the song of bones as they dance their eerie dance across the hollow heartbeat-resounding wooden floors when no mortal eye watches. Their song is life, and my song is death, and this does not make us enemies but rather partners. It is an uneasy partnership, to be sure, for there is always the fear that one might try to sing to the other and pull them into a realm that they do not wish to be a part of. To have them relinquish their song. To have them _forget _their song.

I will never forget my song. I cannot forget it. It is as much a part of me as the stilled blood that once ran in my veins or the dry wooden bones that make up my limbs are a part of me. To think that I might forget that I am made of blood is laughable; to think that I might forget the song that halts the blood, sits it quietly in my body, denies it movement is equally absurd. Life-singers cannot forget life. Death-singers, like me, cannot forget death.

I cannot, will not, forget death. One might say that it is my obsession, and they might not be wrong. Death is to me what life and living are to the young.

Death is all I have, because only there can I hear my precious person. Sirius Black, my godfather.

Time has little to no meaning for me anymore; my mind is just a timeless, frozen glacier where the death song echoes like wind through the still icy caverns of my consciousness.

I don't want to leave this place because I know that if I do, I will not be able to return. I am not happy here, but nor am I _un_happy; I am content. Here, I do not have to worry myself with the needs of others because there are no others; there is no one here but myself and the beautiful, numbing cold which echoes the music around my mind.

**(space)**

'…_my…'_

'………_boy……'_

'………………_my…beautiful…boy………'_

'…_Destati…'_

Wake up?

'……_Destati…'_

But I don't want to…If I leave, I won't be able to come back…

'…_Then…take…the cold…with you…'_

Take it with me? How?

'…_Like…ThissS**SSS!'**_

**_(space)_**

"HARRY! Oh Merlin, Harry!"

I opened my strangely heavy eyes and found myself staring up at a ceiling that looked eerily familiar.

"Potter?"

I sat up and looked around what I distantly recalled was my bedroom at the Dursleys. There was a layer of frost over everything so thick it could be mistaken for snow. A snow-white owl, an arctic predator, contentedly watched me from a frost-rimmed cage by the window.

"Potter?"

An odd sighing sound came from my mouth and I turned my attention to the people standing just outside the bedroom. I knew I knew these people, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I turned my attention back to admiring the patterns the frost had made on the window.

"So beautiful, the way the colours pulse and sway, like a dance. It's a circle, never ending never beginning, a circle of love and light, beauty and need." Whispered a voice with a strange echoing quality, and it was only moments later that I realised it was me. A bitter smile twisted my lips. "Words, empty as the void that fills the sky. Need is a thing of greed, a faulty emotion like jealously. Anger, rage, sorrow and bitterness... It is only human after all."

I laughed softly, a light carefree childish sound, and began to admire the tiny ice crystals evenly spaced over the milky white skin of my hand.

I jerked out of my thoughts when something unbearably hot wrapped itself around me, causing me to scream in agony; if the sound I gave vent to could be called a scream. I personally thought it sounded like a warped chord from some kind of wind instrument, but that's besides the point; It _burnt_.

"STUPIFY!"

I gratefully collapsed into the cold blue oblivion of my mind.

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	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: _**I do not own anything recognised as belonging to other people.

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The first thing I noticed when I awoke a second time was that I was in a different room; a room I vaguely recognised as a hospital room; probably St Mungo's. I sat up and looked around me, noticing in the process a vibrant deep blue shield of magic moulded against the walls the room I was in. Another glance around and I noticed a string with a sign next to it saying: 'Pull for Assistance'.

I pulled it and, moments later, a medi-witch entered the room. She beamed at me with relief and so much warmth I was almost physically sick for even considering the concept of warmth directed at me.

"Hello dear. I see you're awake. If you would wait but a moment and I'll get medi-wizard Shamus in here to explain everything to you."

The medi-witch scurried out the door to find this 'Shamus' person. Once she was out of sight I lost interest in her and what she was doing.

A mirror I could see through the half-open bathroom door caught my eye.

I cocked my head to the side and climbed out of the bed so I could approach the frost-coated mirror.

I lifted a white hand as I reached it and wiped away the ice.

Shards of curious green ice stared back at me from a blue-shadowed white childish face surrounded by wind-swept raven's wing black locks and eyelashes, the pale ash grey Cupid's bow lips parted slightly in soft wonderment…

I wondered for some time who this beautiful creature could possibly be until my gaze landed on the palest pink zigzag scar on the being's forehead and realised…he was me…

"Astonishing, isn't it?" I turned sharply, falling into a low fighting stance I vaguely recollected but my body remembered. The culprit lounged against the doorjamb of the bathroom door behind me. The wizard continued on without seemingly noticing my reaction.

"Total alteration of pigmentation and blood type, lowered body temperature, mutated liver, lungs, heart and digestive system, suffers heat exhaustion at above 10ºC and, of course, minor visual alterations." The medi-wizard paused and watched me for a moment, just long enough for me to get a vague understanding of how much I had changed.

I blinked slowly. "Then I am obviously no longer human, correct?" The wizard nodded an affirmative. "Then what am I?"

The wizard sighed. "Do you want to come in and sit down? This may take a while since there are several things we need to sort out."

Once I was back on the bed and the wizard had settled into a visitor's chair, I took the time to study the man.

Shamus Holmes, as he introduced himself, was an average sized, average weighing man of middle years and of very average, almost nondescript, appearance. He had unremarkable dark brown hair in an average cut at average length, murky, unmemorable blue eyes and the kind of face one forgets as soon as you look away. Indeed, the only memorable thing about the man was that there was nothing truly outstanding about the man's appearance.

He reminded me of a badger and, for some reason; I liked the average little man.

"Now, Mister Potter, you asked what you are. That is not an easy question to answer, but I shall do my best to answer your questions. First off, you are what is often called either an apparition or an elemental fey; that is, a being created one of three ways. The first is by the spirit of a living sentient being continuing after death and surviving by sheer force of will. The second is through various rituals performed by a witch or wizard which will alter the entire physical and magical make-up of that person until they become an elemental best suited to them. The third, which I believe is the way you became what you are, is when a child or adolescent, both muggle and wizarding folk alike, feels something so strongly that they subconsciously call an existing elemental to themselves. After that, it would be up to the elemental whether or not to 'adopt' the child and turn them into the same type of elemental as them. As you can guess, you have become an ice elemental. Ice elementals are among the most well known, but rarest of the elementals because they are both the most beautiful and the most powerful."

I stared at the ceiling, absorbing the information as it came while watching the play of shades in the blue shield.

"It is…unfortunate that the ministry keeps any elementals they come across in containment in the Department of Mysteries."

My head snapped around to stare at Shamus, fear shattering my numb calmness. He saw my look and smiled reassuringly. "However, it is a pity that most humans die before the transformation is complete."

I looked at his face for a moment before his meaning became clear. He thought that it was cruel to lock someone up for their entire life without a good reason and was saying that he would help me fake my own death to avoid imprisonment.

I nodded my understanding. "Unfortunate." I agreed. "Would you be willing to contact Gringotts for me and have them send someone to help me settle my finances? ...Just in case."

Shamus smiled. "Just in case." He agreed.

The medi-wizard left and I turned my attention back to the shifting shades of blue above my head.

**(space)**

It felt like mere moments, but was probably several hours later, that Shamus escorted a pair of goblins into my ward before leaving the three of us to hash out the details.

The goblins stared for a minute or so before the one in crimson velvet introduced himself as Snapjaw, my Finance manager, and the other was introduced as Snogglebeak, my Estates Manager.

"Now, Mr Potter," Snapjaw began, "The first order of business is the Will of Sirius Black, I assume Dumbledore, as your designated stand in at the reading, has filled you in on your inheritances, so-"

"Incorrect." I broke in impatiently.

"Pardon?" Snapjaw inquired, his eyebrows creasing with some unnamed emotion.

"I have not had any contact with anyone bar my relatives since the beginning of the summer holidays up until I was brought here sometime recently, and even that contact was sparse at best."

The two goblins shared a look. Something was up.

This time it was Snogglebeak who spoke. "Mr Potter, have you ever, at any time, received even a single letter from Gringotts."

"No."

The two goblins spoke agitatedly to one another in gobbledygook for some time, looking through several papers from both their briefcases and comparing notes. It must have been five or so minutes later that I was once again addressed.

"Can you tell us, Mr Potter, is this your handwriting?" I was shown a piece of parchment. The writing was from a young hand, but clearly legible. I knew that handwriting.

I handed the goblins back the parchment. "No. My own handwriting is not half as neat as that one. That handwriting belongs to one Ronald Weasely."

It was hard to tell with the goblins' craggy faces, but I could have sworn their faces were murderous. I vaguely recalled something about crossing a goblin.

Don't.

I waved my hand. "I'm sure the both of you can cause enough problems for the guilty in my place, but first, I want this Will in place before someone from the Order gets here and causes trouble for me."

The two goblins nodded reluctantly. Various amounts of money were left for the Weasely family as a whole, Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin and the Order of the Phoenix. Remus received a house in Liverpool, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezers was granted a further hundred thousand Galleons for experimentation and opening in other locations, Hogwarts and St Mungos received the largest donations given in the last century, Severus Snape received two Galleons and a copy of an old book on Potions from the Potter Vault for putting up with a job that put him with the things he hated most, 24/7: Children. Lastly, the rather substantial left overs were left to the unknown older half-brother I had never knew,-

"What should my new name be?" I enquired of the goblins, honestly having no idea what name I should give myself. "Something Frost." I murmured to myself.

The two goblins consulted one another for a few moments before agreeing on one.

"Vashti would suit you well, Mr Potter." Snogglebeak put forward, Snapjaw nodding in agreement.

"Vashti." I murmured, rolling my tongue around the unfamiliar word. "Vashti Frost." I liked it. But still I frowned.

"I need a middle name." I pondered a moment. "Something to remember Sirius by. For remembrance, as reminder…"

The goblins conferred again before they once again settled on a few potential names. "Obsidian? Ebony? Sable? Shade?-"

A name caught my interest. "Sable?" I wondered. "Sable." I decided.

I smiled and nodded at the beaming goblins.

And so started many signings of documents.

Three hours later, Harry James Potter died and Vashti Sable Frost flickered into existence.

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	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing recognised as belonging to someone else.**

**Author's Note:**

Pairings aren't all that important in this fic, but there will be crushes and flings along the way.

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I stood idly in the shadows of the conference room of Gringotts, my cold-charmed hooded trench coat, black, meshed well with the darkness of my corner. Shamus, whom I had gotten to know quite well and was currently living with, had temporarily charmed my scar gone, my skin normal, though pale, my eyes a shade of pale hazel and made me look eighteen as opposed to my actual age of sixteen.

Gazing around the room, I noticed that Dumbledore and a few Weaselys didn't look so much sad as chagrined, namely Ginerva and Ronald. Hermione Granger was crying, true, but I wasn't entirely sure if it was for me as a friend or me as a person. Remus looked like hell, but it was expected. Snape looked surprisingly sombre, as did the representatives from St Mungos. All present were expected to attend the small, private 'funeral' after the proceedings, where the song played as the coffin was cremated was a muggle song I had chosen personally, which was both appropriate and hinted subtly.

The goblin, who was to read the 'Will', cleared his throat and looked around. "Is everyone here?"

Dumbledore gave a falsely watery smile. "I believe so, Mr Jabberknoll."

I vaguely noticed from my cool numbness that now that I was not as recklessly emotional as I once was, I was no longer as inclined to fall for falsities.

The goblin frowned as he took in the faces around the table. "Is a Mr Vashti S. Frost present? The Will most clearly states that he must be present for the reading or the Will will not be read."

Thwarted anger flickered over the Headmaster's face so fast I'm sure only myself and my solicitor, Jabberknoll, saw it. He covered up quickly with a worried but hopeful smile. "But surely that cannot be the case? I'm sure Harry-"

"My brother was most adamant in his desire that I be here, Headmaster Dumbledore." Everyone but the goblin jumped at my charmed Russian accented voice and gave me a deer-in-headlights look.

"Mr Frost. How nice of you to join us." Jabberknoll gave me a nod and a quirk of an eyebrow that was the goblin equivalency of dry amusement.

I returned the nod and gave the old wizard a cool stare. "Harry, himself, sent me a letter right after he completed his Will, making it quite clear that I be here to stand in his stead." I stalked past the startled humans and seated myself between Remus and Jabberknoll. I nodded for the goblin to continue.

"Please sign your name as a record of attendance and agreement to the final wishes of Mr Potter." Everyone signed their names.

Jabberknoll cleared his throat and began the reading, smoothly interrupting any queries that may have been made.

"I, Harridan James Potter, being of sound body and mind, do here state my final will and testament.

"_To the Weasleys I leave fifty thousand Galleons for being the family I never had. To Hermione Granger, I leave twenty thousand Galleons which will be placed into a trust fund until graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or until she is no longer a student there. To Remus Lupin, I leave the Sun House in Liverpool and fifty thousand Galleons to be used at his discretion. _

_To the Order of the Phoenix, I leave Grimmauld Place and one hundred thousand Galleons to be used exclusively for the betterment of the Order as a whole. A goblin will be left in charge of all transactions to ensure the money is used for the purpose it was left for. To Weasley's Wizarding Wheezers, I leave one hundred Galleons for experimentation and expansion. To St Mungos Hospital, I leave five hundred thousand Galleons for the betterment of medicine and magical care. To Gringotts, I leave two hundred thousand Galleons to overhaul the wards and defences on the condition that the premises become a sanctuary for the innocent if they should need it. _

_To Severus Snape, for putting up with a job you hate with people you hate, eg children, I leave you two Galleons and a copy of Belladonna Nightshade's 'A Thousand and One Obscure Potions and How To Use Them'."_ Snape looked well and truly shocked that he had gotten anything, let alone acknowledgment that Harry had seen him for what he really was, but also having gotten one of the rarest known Potion books in the world. "_All remaining items, assets, monies, vaults and estates are to go to my half-brother, Vashti Sable Frost with the request that he keep an eye on Remus and give him a place to stay if he needs it."_

I stood and bowed to the reader of the will, hand over heart. "_Pro Vos."_ (**1**)

"Wait a goddamned minute!' Ronald Weasely stood and slammed his palms down on the table, drawing a cool look from both myself and Jabberknoll, and shocked ones from almost everyone else. Ginvera and Dumbledore made a better effort to hide their dismay.

Jabberknoll raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Mr Weasely?"

"Damn straight, there is! Why was he left so much when we were left so little?! We were his friends for years and he just came onto the scene! Why does he get so much?!"

I had a smile on my face with my head bowed and eyes closed as I rode out the Weasely boy's jealous rant. When the redhead was finished, I spoke calmly and levelly, enraging my once-friend even more.

"First and foremost, I am Harry's closest surviving Potter relative and, as such, am entitled to the Potter Hereditary estates, monies and items. Secondly, I have been corresponding with Harry since the end of his fourth year via muggle communication systems such as telephone, letters and, on two occasions, face to face meetings. Through the school year we used my owl, Snowshadow, who bares a marked resemblance to Hedwig. The only person in England who actually knew about my existence before Harry was Sirius Black and thus he cannot be here as an accountable witness." I paused here to give Dumbledore a Look. "And, last but certainly not least, you, Mister Weasely, are in enough trouble as it is with the Gringotts goblins for fraudulence. "

Weasely paled and sat down, ignorant of the stares of everyone but Dumbledore and Ginerva.

I nodded to Jabberknoll and left the room. I still had to get ready for the 'funeral' in an hour's time.

I'd never been able to fully explore Diagon Alley before on my own. I had been startled when Shamus had told me that there were, in fact, seven side streets along the main one, not just Nocturn Alley. There was also Centre Alley, which was made up of cafés, restaurants and other social places; Factu Alley, which sold furniture and other home goods; Natur Alley, which was basically a groceries market; Gradu Alley, the fashion district; Leisure Alley was for hobbyists and pet shops; and, last but certainly not least, was Structure Alley. Aside from being filled with dance, social and strip clubs and bars, it was also rumoured to be the local hangout of other races and half-humans who could pass as normal witches and wizards.

I was, at present, picking up my outfit for the funeral from Woven Shadows in Gradu Alley. Two days prior, just after I got out of the hospital, Shamus had taken me on a shopping spree when he saw what had passed for clothes for me. Once I had decided that I liked faded black cloth as opposed to shiny black leather, Shamus had introduced me to his niece, Charmane ("Call me Char."), who worked in Woven Shadows. From what I understood, Woven Shadows was the wizarding equivalent of 'Pretty & Twisted'.

Beneath the hooded trench coat, I wore simple faded black jeans that were comfortably stretchy and flared at the bottom, a black cotton tank-top that left my mid-riff bare and metallic black Dock Martens. At Shamus's insistence, there was a Celtic cross on a black cord wrapped around my neck.

An off-hand comment from Char, which I really wish she hadn't made, had had Shamus growing my hair to lower back in irritating wavy fly-away almost-curls. There were two locks on either side of my face that were especially annoying in that they curled over my cheeks, framing my face in an upside-down heart shape. I thought I looked like a girl. Shamus thought I looked cute. Char actually told me I looked out and out fuckable.

The shop was seemingly empty but for Char and wonderfully dark and cool as opposed to the blasting heat outside. I was already unbuttoning the coat before the door closed as I made my way through the racks of dark clothing towards the girl at the desk.

Char Winner was twenty-one with a most odd obsession with the colour blue. Her short hair was midnight blue, her contact lenses were winter blue, her lips were coated in a blue lipstick called asphyxiation and her clothes were royal blue leather. I wanted a tongue piercing like hers.

Obsession aside, Char was a maneater. I would have been unnerved if she hadn't decided I was more of a little brother/high maintenance pet in the first ten minutes of our meeting. The first thing I had noticed about her, aside from the notable colour obsession, was that, while a total egotist, it was nearly impossible not to like her; hate her, yes, but you still came back. It was like she oozed charisma.

I dropped my coat on the counter next to her and I swear she jumped half a foot.

Char blinked her big blue eyes up at me and gave me a reproachful look, dog-earing the page of the horror book she was reading. "You could have made some kind of noise or something. Honestly, you're just as bad as the bloody vampires."

I raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Vampires?"

And, yes, I had noticed the three people I assumed to be vampires coming towards us from the boots section.

"Yeah. There sneak up and scare the beejeebies out of you. It's irritating as hell."

The vampire in the lead, a tall, gorgeous male with honey-brown eyes and long straight black hair in a high ponytail, smirked in mischievous glee and reached out to tap Char on the shoulder.

My hands were inches from my ears when the vampire's hand reached her. Therefore, my ears were firmly plugged when Char let out an unearthly shriek.

Char whipped around and socked the vamp in the jaw, sending him stumbling back a few steps. The other two vampires were still laughing at the poor girl while the one she had socked was giving her a shit-eating grin.

Char was berating the vampire who had startled her, but I had since tuned her out. She called the one who had scared her 'Seth'. The other boy in the group, who sported a pair of almost lavender eyes I was sure were natural, had long hair which was an odd assortment of black, royal purple and gold and skin the colour of cocoa. He was small and slender and not entirely cute, more feral, but it was close enough to describing him; his name was 'Honey'. The last and only girl had black eyes, skin as pale as my own and long, bone-white hair that hung past her butt in much the same manner as mine did. Her name was Susan.

I sighed. This was really cutting into my free time. I had to be at the funeral in half an hour.

"Char?" Char and Seth ignored me but 'Honey' and Susan glanced at me and looked away before snapping their heads around to stare at me, shock and something else blatantly displayed across their faces.

I frowned at them. "Take a picture, that way I can be flipping you off even when I'm not in the room."

Susan smiled and 'Honey' laughed in amusement, but they both looked away. I turned my attention back to Char and Seth.

"Char? Char!" I blew air out of my nose, lips tight and eyes glaring when she ignored me again. Alright, then.

"**CHAR**!" Both human and vampire gave me deer-in-headlights looks, their attention caught by the echoing voice that came from my throat whenever I used any of my magic these days. I pulled my power back and addressed the girl. "Char. I have twenty minutes to get changed and get to the funeral. You have my outfit. Please get it."

Char pursed her lips irritably, but left to get the clothing without a word.

"So…" I gave Seth a Look. He ignored it. "What school do you go to?"

"None. I'm home-schooled."

He muttered a "Damn!" under his breath before continuing. If I had been human, I wouldn't have caught it, but since I'm not, it's a moot point. "Why not?"

I threw out my pre-prepared response. "IQ of roughly 304. I only got letters to preppy schools because public schools didn't want me making the other students feel stupid." I gave Seth another Look. "I made it very clear to Mother what I would do if she sent me to a preppy school." I bared my teeth in a more-snarl-than-smile. "She wasn't willing to take the chance."

"I see."

The look of thwarted interest on his face was rather amusing.

"Here you are. You can use the change rooms if you want." Char seemed to be over her moment of being miffed. I took the parcel wrapped in black paper with a nod, picked up my trench coat and moved to change rooms.

I put proximity wards and locking charms on the change room door just in case. Vampires, after all, are renown perverts, and these three had obviously taken an interest in me.

Damned if I knew why.

…Please note that I am ignoring the fact that some would say that I _am_ damned.

I put a one way silencing charm on the door so I knew what was happening outside, but they couldn't hear what I was doing. I would assume they thought it was a simple both-way silencing charm since as soon as it went up, they began speaking about me.

"Who _is _he?" I'm pretty sure that was Seth.

"Vashti Frost. Damned fuckable, isn't he?" That was Char. She sounded amused. The bitch.

"Is he legal?" That was Susan…I think. There wasn't any other girls…I don't think.

"Sorry, babe. As far as I know, he's just turned sixteen."

"Is he gay? Or at least bi?" I think that as Honey, but I wasn't sure.

Char snorted. "For all I know, he could be into _ducks_. The guy's harder to read then ancient Egyptian. I do, however, know that he's both naïve and oblivious to subtle sexual advances and gets flustered when confronted with blatant sexual advances. I'm almost positive he's a virgin, so there's a chance he doesn't know his sexual orientation."

There was a happy sound. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I specialise in virgins, then."

I rolled my eyes at the arrogance in Seth's voice. '_Well,'_ I mimicked in my mind as I zipped up the coat, _'I guess it's a good thing I specialise in playing dumb, then. Heaven knows I got enough practice with the Weasley Twins and **their **propositions.'_

I blocked out the four perverts' speculations of what I'd be like in bed in favour of regarding my reflection.

I liked it. I looked like a noble but angsty Dark Prince from a fantasy novel…You know; the kind that falls for the tragic heroine, turns good and ends up carking it at the end of the book.

I was wearing slate-black pants made from dragon-hide and heavy, black combat boots that climbed up my calves to my knees, the fitted leather and tight lacing making my legs look longer. The coat was awesome. It was high collared but slightly open and sleeveless, clinging across my chest to my hips were it let peak a triangle of flesh around my belly-button before flaring out with its starch-induced billowing to my ankles. The coat itself was a faded black cloth that looked to not be able to decide if it was cloth or leather, and so settled for looking like leather but acting and feeling like heavy cloth. I'd pulled my long hair into a high ponytail and outlined my eyes with kohl.

I looked both conservative and rampantly slutty. It was dark enough and covered enough skin that no one could complain without me being able to take offence; especially if played the depressed and grieving, but still tragically noble brother estranged by circumstance and a stupid old man.

Damned I looked good.

Vain? Me? Never!

…Well…maybe a little. But only since I changed form.

I folded my other clothes and put them into a sub-space pouch I attached to a loop at the back of my pants under the coat. I pulled on the black shadow woven gloves and tucked my new wand (Snow Hound fur and Ebony, eight-and-a-half inches) into a hidden pocket in the hem of the lower half of the coat. I nodded to my reflection and put on the trench-coat, pulling up the hood. I took down the wards and charms and exited the room.

I put a pouch of Galleons on the counter and took off towards the door with a "See ya!" and a pause which lasted long enough for me to tell Char "And I'm allergic to ducks."

Then I was out the door and making for Gringotts again where I would floo to the Eternal Rest Funeral Home (the Wizarding one).

The four people left in Woven Shadows all flushed deeply when they realised what the duck comment meant.

I had obviously heard them.

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**1.** Latin. Means 'For You'.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or the song 'So Cold' by Breaking Benjamin.

* * *

My entire year group and the DA were present for my funeral, as were my teachers, the reps from St Mungos, several members of the Order of the X-Mas Turkey I had okayed and some higher-up politicians. A reporter from the Quibbler and Rita Skeeter were also present.

I was very thankful that the Goblins had agreed to oversee the security; nothing got past _them._

Still, most of the students and teachers, as well as the Old Crowd, were pretty much ignoring me. Everyone else, however, were testing the waters. Draco Malfoy approached me whilst everyone was moving to their seats.

"You are Potter's brother?"

I turned from the enchanted CD player to see who was speaking. I was…surprised to see that it was Malfoy. All the arrogance and conceit of the callow youth he had been was stripped away, leaving only a stoic and wistfully regretful young man. It was as though, with the loss of his childhood rival, he had finally realised that the only one who could save him was himself…

…if he was strong enough.

I vaguely wondered if he was going to try to make 'Vashti' his saviour now that 'Harry' was dead.

"I am." I answered, hiding my thoughts behind the same mask of blank indifference I had been wearing since the beginning of this charade.

"You look a lot like him." There was that note of wistfulness in his voice that was in his eyes.

"I know. They say that we look like our father, but that's not true. We look like our great-grandmother, Danyella Malfoy, who was disowned for marrying against her parent's wishes. We only really inherited black hair and the Potter eyesight."

This was true. I had been given a genealogy book by the goblins and looked up both the Potter bloodline and its marriages within the Purebloods, as well as the genealogy of the segregated and estranged Frost family on the mainland.

To ensure I could never be called out, my mother was listed as Morina Denna Frost, estranged, a spinster, a hermit and died two years ago. Her will was carried out privately and the rest of the relatives had no idea where all her money went. Furthermore, she had had no contact with any of her relatives for eighteen years. Long enough for her to find out she was pregnant and raise a child. In reality, her rather substantial inheritance from a maiden aunt was put into liquid assets after estrangement, built up and was left to maintaining her kennels and hounds.

I had bought the kennels. I'd always wanted dogs and there were over thirty magic-orientated breeding hounds in the kennel. I was going to see them tomorrow.

"So that means we are related." I blinked out of my ponderings and turned fully to blink at the blond. I frowned and studied the boy.

"Yes. I suppose it does. On both sides considering Harry left me the Black Lordship as well." I narrowed my eyes because I had seen the sudden desperate plan be born in his. "Why?"

"Would you care to join me for a meal at the Leaky Cauldron after the wake?"

I tilted me head to the side as I contemplated. I shrugged. "Okay. I don't have anything scheduled later."

A snide voice behind him cut in. "Consorting with Dark Wizards now, are you Frost?"

I gave Weasley a condescending look. "Such classification of magics is inaccurate, not to mention biased. By the British definition, I am classified as a Grey Wizard. Now piss off, the both of you. I'm busy." I turned back and started to fiddle with the sound system.

Draco wandered off with an amused little smirk while Weasley stood seething for a while before a pair of goblins made as if to move in on him, scaring him back to standing with his sister. It appeared that they were being ostracized by the rest of the clan.

"Mr Frost, we are ready for commencement of the ceremony."

"Alright."

**(space)**

The ceremony was led by an old priestess from the Order of Danu. A long passage was read in Latin and incense was lit before Granger, Dumbledore, Fudge and myself went up onto the dais where we would each give a speech about how we felt about Harry and list some of his achievements.

Hermione went first.

"Harry was…sob my very first friend. No matter what happened, he was always there for me ---" I then proceeded to ignore what the three had to say, instead entertaining myself with finding patters in the seams of the carpet.

Dumbledore stood and began in his solemn, grieving grandfather voice. "Harry was perhaps the most loved student to attend Hogwarts during my time as Headmaster-"

I began picking at the seams of my coat in boredom.

Fudge stood. "Never before in history has the Wizarding world lost such an icon of Light at such a young age-"

I traced the creases on my gloves. There was about a minute of silence before the goblin standing behind me poked me in the ribs. I jerked slightly and blinked.

Everyone was staring at me.

I blinked again.

The goblin standing next to me lent over to whisper in my ear. "You're supposed to make a speech now."

I blinked one last time. I only later realized I was making an adorably surprised face when I saw the photo. That would explain the sudden cooing from the females in the crowd.

"Oh."

I stood up to the podium and blinked at the small sea of faces looking at me expectantly.

"Well," I started, "Firstly, all I have to say is, ignore everything about Harry that Fudge and Dumbledork said-" There were shocked gasps in the crowd, but I continued on, blatantly ignoring them. "- and much of what Miss Granger said, though Miss Granger may be excused because she was unaware of most of Harry's secrets, but these two stooges were just slinging political bullshit to make themselves look better." I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the 'stooges'. "The truth about my brother, Harridan James Potter- and yes, his actual name _was_ Harridan. Not Harry. Harridan.- was that he was illegally sent to live with his mother's muggle sister, who was mentioned in Lilly Potter's will as to never, _ever_ gain custody of Harry because of her extreme dislike of anything magic, and she and her family verbally and emotionally abused and neglected him his entire life. Her husband and son did physical abuse as well."

I paused to assess the crowd. "Until his Hogwarts letter arrived- addressed to 'The Cupboard Under The Stairs', I might add- he was practically a House Elf to those people. An abused House Elf." The crowd appeared to be forming into a mob quite nicely. "Harry was sent hundreds of Hogwarts letters, so it is indisputable that the Headmaster knew of this." A little red devil appeared on my shoulder, rubbing his hands together and chanting 'Fun! Fun! Fun! Lotsa Fun!' "Due to his upbringing and not a little empathy- which he had a lot of, by the way- Harry had a lot of experience in pretending to be what everyone expected him to be. No flaws were permitted. All cracks were sealed up. Every smudge was painted over." The little devil was bouncing and giggling insanely. "The façade he showed to the world was that of the hero everyone expected him to be. Before his second year, after an incident involving accidental magic, Harry was locked in his five by ten foot room with a cat-flap for his food to be pushed through, bars on the window and a five minute bathroom break a day. Third year holidays, he was once again House Elf and punching bag. Fourth year holidays, he was ignored because of the threat of his **wrongly incarcerated** Godfather, Sirius Black, coming to get them. Fifth year he was morbidly depressed with the death of his friend, Cedric Diggory. I met him during this time and helped him through it until he was taken to the headquarters of the not-so-secret Order of the Phoenix. That brings us to this holiday." The devil squeaked and went still as the crowd rippled in anger. "He was once again left with _Those People_ and spent his time in a suicidal depression from the death of his **wrongly incarcerated** godfather, Sirius Black, who was neither acknowledged for his part in the defence of the Ministry of Magic nor pardoned despite evidence of his innocence."

"Now, we all pretty much know what happened during school from Miss Granger. So we must ask; Why did all these things happen in a place where children are supposed to be safe? Could this really have happened under Dumbldore's nose without him knowing? I think not. I know I will never be attending Hogwarts. Ever." I broke out of my monotone sing-song to make my opinion firmly known in no uncertain terms.

There was an almost feral feeling emanating from the crowd. I had the feeling that Dumbledore and Fudge would soon be unemployed.

My devil cackled.

"Four days ago, members of the Order arrived to pick up Harry on his birthday to be taken to their headquarters. They arrived to find Harry covered in frost. He was taken to the Hogwarts Infirmary first, then, several hours later, when they could find no way to help him, he was taken to St Mungos. I am told that if he had been immediately taken to St Mungos, his condition could have been reversed and he would still be with us. This was undoubtedly done to cover up any sign of weakness in their cover boy."

I shifted on the balls of my feet.

"Now. Harry's condition. He was adopted by an Ice Elemental." There were gasps around the room. I had asked and it turned out that the Ministry had hidden turned Elementals from the public. Elementals were like fairies; all little kids dreamed of being one, one day. "I threatened his doctor with threats of grievous bodily harm and I was told that even if a person survives the turn, the Ministry claims them dead and locks them in a room in the Department of Mysteries for the rest of their lives." There were gasps of shock from around the room. I continued on, apparently blithely unaware of the sensitive information I was giving out. "This has, understandably, alienated a very powerful race who could potentially be allies in this war. Harry could have survived, but he decided he didn't want to live out his life in a prison as a weapon, existing only to be used at the Ministry's discretion. So I blame Voldemort, the Ministry, Harry's relatives, Fudge and, most importantly, Dumbledork for Harry's death and I shall stop at nothing to destroy every one of them. Thank you."

I turned and returned to my seat, noting that there were two goblins each holding Dumbledore and Fudge in their seats. They both looked both pissed and terrified at the same time.

The guests looked like an angry mob, all right. They looked ready to start lighting torches and transfigure pitchforks.

The little devil in my head crowed and did a victory dance, all the while singing 'Who's your daddy!'.

The four of us stood and moved back to sit with the others. I made a show of sitting between Professor Flitwick and a Slytherin I recognised as Blaise Zabini.

The black robed priestess of Danu moved to the polished ebony casket where a flesh-of-swine golem rested and began the litany of Death, Rebirth and Life.

The priestess finished and the cremation commenced. I nodded to the goblin standing beside the sound system.

A melody began on a guitar for about thirty seconds before an electric base guitar and drums kicked in and then ghostly vocals echoed around the room.

'_Crowded streets are cleared away, one by one,  
Hollow heroes separate as the run.  
You're so cold keep your hand in mine.  
Wise men wonder while strong men die!'_

The vocals picked up as the pier was lit and the blue-white flames leapt across the black shroud covering the seeming.

'_Show me how it ends._

_It's alright.  
Show me how defenseless you really are.  
Satisfied and empty inside,  
That's alright lets give this another try.'_

Several people in the crowd began to sob. I stood abruptly and moved forwards to stand four feet from the leaping flames.

'_If you find your family, don't you cry,  
In this land of make believe, dead and dry.  
You're so cold but you feel alive.  
Lay your hands on me one last time._

Looking into the flames, I was reminded of something.

A face I both didn't know and yet did know.

Mother. The Elemental who had adopted me.

Long ice blue hair in thick braids, black eyes with bright blue slivers, high arched black brows, a vulpine face the colour of snow-shadows and full lips curved into a half-smile.

Show me how it ends,

_It's alright.  
Show me how defenseless you really are.  
Satisfied and empty inside,  
That's alright lets give this another try.'_

The air was pushed into a wind by the pressure made by the flames, flairing my hair and coat dramatically silhoette against bright, leaping blue; The Tragic Prince mourning his Hero Younger Brother.

'_Show me how it ends,_

_It's alright.  
Show me how defenseless you really are.  
Satisfied and empty inside,  
That's alright lets give this another try._

_It's alright.'_

That is how it started…

'_It's alright.'_

As the flames leapt and danced around the form on the pyre and myself, a romantic, black clad form staring into the blue flames devouring my Saviour 'brother', I, Vashti Frost, became another icon for the Wizarding World. A rallying point if you will, but not one exclusively for the Light.

'_It's alright.'_

In future years, I became a rally point for Light, Twilight and Darkness. It was I who brought back the knowledge that the Dark was not exclusively Evil any more than Light was exclusively Good.

'_It's alright.'_

But that wouldn't happen for some time, though that faux funeral certainly set the ball rolling. Even before I left England, they were already flocking to my banner; both witches and wizards _and_ those other races humans called creatures.

'_It's alright.'_

In coming years, I came to wish I had never made that speech at the funeral. I wished I had never gone into a type of hermitage during the rest of that month. And I wished a certain three Norse Priestess Seers had not been watching. Listening. Meddling.

'_It's alright.'_

I wished I had not been so charismic and beautiful when I turned back to the crowd, the air still stirring my hair and clothes, my face thoughtfully somber.

I wished the Photographer hadn't been using a new full colour camera.

I wished the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler and Witch's Weekly hadn't dug up everything on my fake persona and aired it to the world.

'_It's alright.'_

I wished, oh how I wished, that Sirius had been there at my side.

But he wasn't and never would be.

Because of him, for him, I became who I am.

Not for the people I never knew who brought me into the world.

Not for Dumbledore. For the Weasleys. Not Granger. Not even for Remus.

Only for Sirius…and for Him.

'_It's alright.'_

No, it's not alright.

No.

Not never.

Never forever will it be alright.

'_It's alright.'_

Not while the world lacks one Sirius Black.

* * *

Pleez review.


	5. Has been adopted

Hoy-hoy!

This story has been adopted by **Dyani91 **who has decided to make it a crossover with Yu Yu Hakusho.

Kudos to you.

My Echoing Silence.


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